


Sick Day

by mamey2422



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamey2422/pseuds/mamey2422
Summary: Rio takes care of Beth when she gets sick._______“Then why are you here?”“You said you were sick. I came to check on you.”It’s the matter-of-factness of his reply that stuns Beth into silence. Her knight in shining armor. If she believed in such things. Which she does not. She is fully capable of taking care of herself, and her kids and her business. She is a money laundering pill pusher who is keeping the FBI off her back, after all.





	Sick Day

Beth wakes up with a groan. She slowly rolls over and gingerly touches her head. It’s pounding. She’s clammy, simultaneously warm and chilled. She feels worse than when she was sixteen and experimented with cheap vodka for the first – and last – time.

Beth looks at the clock. 4:00 am. She debates going back to sleep but her body makes the decision for her. A wave of nausea washes over her so strongly that she barely makes it to the bathroom before throwing up.

As is second nature for most parents, Beth immediately traces this moment back to Kenny. He had a stomach bug a few days ago. Of course she caught it. Not that she’s seeing much of her children. The words in Dean’s note still echo in her head.

_Beth – I won’t live like this. I’m going to my parents and taking the kids. Get him out of your life before it’s too late._

The threat is subtle but ominous. And Dean has been holding to it. She only sees her kids either at his parent’s house or at the park. Maybe this isn’t a stomach bug. Maybe it’s her body finally rejecting Dean. She doesn’t love him anymore, maybe never did. But she wouldn’t have her children without him. Another wave of sickness forces itself through her.

Beth considers lying on the cool tile floor for the rest of the day. But she needs to text Rio. There’s no way she’s making the day's drop off. She drags herself to her nightstand, fumbles for her phone and texts him. He can have all the money, all the pills, all the everything as long as she can stay on this floor for the rest of her life. She doesn’t stay awake long enough for his reply.

\------

“How are you feeling?”

The gravelly voice comes from the patio doorway. Which is wide open. How did that happen? Beth has a fuzzy memory of throwing the doors open in a moment of despair when she thought the air in the room was literally suffocating her. And she was back in bed so she must have found her way off the floor.

But that was in the morning. It’s dark out now, the moon the only source of light. The silver slivers are enough to frame Rio’s lean silhouette. She knows it’s him immediately.

“I’ll be fine tomorrow. I can do the next drop.” Her voice is scratchy, her eyes hurt, and she’d like to go back to sleep.

“Don’t worry about that, ma. You need to take it easy for a couple of days.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You said you were sick. I came to check on you.”

It’s the matter-of-factness of his reply that stuns Beth into silence. Her knight in shining armor. If she believed in such things. Which she does not. She is fully capable of taking care of herself, and her kids and her business. She is a money laundering pill pusher who is keeping the FBI off her back, after all. 

Beth turns into her pillow. A moment later she feels his hand on her cheek, bringing her eyes to meet his worried gaze. She’s pale, her hair matted around her face. He gently tucks a lock behind her ear, rests his palm on her forehead.

“You have a fever.”

Beth stares up at Rio. He really is the most gorgeous, interesting, frustrating man she’s ever met.

“I’m fine.” 

“I brought you something. Guaranteed to make you feel better.”

At Rio’s insistence, he forces Beth to sit up. He settles on the edge of the bed and rests a paper bag on his lap.

“See this?” He pulls out a container of soup. “This is my mother’s secret chicken soup recipe. I made it just for you.”

“I’m so tired.”

“That’s why you need this. You need fuel.”

Beth reluctantly takes the spoon Rio hands her, the delicious aroma tempting her. After several “I got its” Rio takes back the spoon. He props another pillow behind Beth and begins to feed her. She doesn’t fight him. They sit in silence as she eats a spoonful, then another. Then almost half the container.

Beth yawns. The soup hit the spot but she still feels like she could lay in bed forever. She shifts over, a silent invitation for Rio to get comfortable. The room feels so different with him in it. Safer, cozier.

Rio kicks his sneakers off and swings his legs up to sit next to her. Beth immediately relaxes against him, rests her head on his shoulder. They stay like that while she sleeps. He looks down at her, curled up next to him and realizes there’s no other way he’d want to spend his night. He’s not the type of guy to bring homemade soup to a distributor. But things are different with Beth. They always have been.

After an hour, she still feels warm so he scoops Beth into his arms and carries her to the bathroom. She rouses, mumbles something incoherent and wraps her arms around his neck.

Rio stands Beth next to the shower, but instead of letting go Beth tightens her arms around him, her fingers tracing shapes on the back of his neck, her eyes still closed.

“Get in the shower. It will help you feel better.”

Beth finally opens her eyes. Rio pulls back to look at her. Even sick, she looks gorgeous and tempting.

“Come on. Get in.”

“Fine,” she says with a sigh.

Rio turns on the water, as hot as he can to get a good steam. Beth is already stripping off her clothes so he leaves the bathroom, keeping the door open just enough to make sure she’s okay.

Twenty minutes later she walks hesitantly back into the bedroom, her hair and body each wrapped in a towel. She finds Rio changing the bed sheets.

“I found these in the cabinet,” he says. “Hope it’s okay. You’ll feel better with fresh sheets.”

“Of course. The shower worked magic. Thank you.”

“Sit down.”

“Let me just….” Beth pulls out a t-shirt and sweat pants from a drawer, keenly aware of the small amount of fabric keeping her from being naked in front of Rio. They’d had sex in a gritty bathroom but this feels more intimate than that. She goes into the bathroom to get dressed and when she comes back the bed is fully made with a corner turned down.

“Wow. I wish I had this type of room service every day.”

“Hop in.”

“I actually feel so much better. I’m going to stay up for now.”

“No. You need rest. And I have something else for you.”

Rio walks to the nightstand and pulls out a tub of Vicks VapoRub from the same paper bag as the soup.

“What is that?”

“This,” Rio says with supreme confidence, “is the best cure for any illness.”

“I don’t have a cough.”

“My mother used this on me all time no matter what kind of sick I was. You just need to know how to use it.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

“Do you trust me?”

Beth pauses at the question. It’s simple but loaded. As things usually are between them. She doesn’t answer. Instead she slides back in bed, immediately relaxing into the fresh, clean softness.

Rio sits on the edge next to her. He opens the Vicks container and scoops out just enough to spread between his fingers.

“It’s okay,” Rio whispers when Beth flinches as he approaches her face. “Close your eyes.”

He places his thumbs on her cheekbones and gently rubs her temples. His pressure is firm, his motions small, just like his mother used on him, and he on Marcus. He gradually moves his fingers up along her hairline and repeats the pattern over and over until Beth drifts off to sleep. Her breathing is steady, her cheeks have color back in them, her skin a healthy temperature.

Rio pulls the blanket over her shoulders, gets up and heads back out the door. With one last look over his shoulder Rio quietly shuts it behind him.


End file.
